


Italian Bakery

by SomePiece



Category: One Piece
Genre: 2nd person POV, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery, Bakery Shop Owner Killer, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomePiece/pseuds/SomePiece
Summary: Killer runs an Italian bakery that also happen to sell some pasta. And you were in a serious trouble - and in a need of food. The accidental meeting truly changed your lives.
Relationships: Killer (One Piece)/Original Character(s), Killer (One Piece)/Reader, Killer (One Piece)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Italian Bakery

It all started like in a romantic movie. You had been running in panic because your catering had got cancelled on short notice, leaving you with no food for upcoming family party – and it had been too late to find any open restaurant. He simply got stood up by his clients and been just about to trash a lot of pasta. You had run into each other in front of his little shop, you crushing against his huge body and landing miserably on your bottom. You had ruined your pants, so he had offered you a coffee at his bakery while your clothes had been washed above, in his apartment.

“Microwaved pasta is better than nothing”, he had simply said as you had opened to him about your problem. “You can take it, for free. I already wrote it off.”

Even reheated, this food had been so good you almost had said thanks to all gods you could name for letting this man cross your way. As soon as you could, you had come to his place once again, with a cake you had baked for him. You had wanted to pay for the pasta too, but he had been refusing all the time, no matter how hard you had been trying to convince him. So, instead, you had bought his products. And again. And again.

Soon, you became his regular and very special client.

Killer was running a small Italian bakery and – along with the breadstuff – he was selling the deli, mainly home-made pasta. You started your daily visits with buying some bread for lunch and to supply your pasta stores. Soon your regular order was awaiting you, wrapped in a cute paper, with your name calligraphed on. It didn’t take long for you to stop for a bit more, first spending your lunchbreak on eating his delicious spaghetti aglio e olio, then dropping by after closing hours for a cup of coffee or two. Finally, you were going to work an hour earlier, just to stop by and watch him prepare the food. He never invited you to do so – but the first time you came, you found the door opened and he didn’t tell you to leave. You treated it as a good sign and continued this little tradition of yours.

There was something unusually calming in a sight of a huge man like him, doing something so commonly associated as feminine. You loved watching him knead the dough, cut it in thin strings with patience, take in and out the baking sheets, arrange the products in the counter with such dedication and perfectionism. You loved the way his muscles flexed under his shirt and apron. The way he was unintentionally playing with his long blonde hair, tied in a loose bun or braid when he was working. The way he was leaving trails of flour on his clothes, face and neck. The way he was so gentle with his big, sturdy hands. The way he was using the knife, like he was born holding it. The way he was smiling at you – the odd, yet beautiful smile, delivered not by the lips (because he barely moved them when smiling – and never laughed aloud per se), but lightening whole face up, especially those little wrinkles around his eyes. His voice – you could listen to him forever – his smell – the intoxicating mix of a cologne and Italian spices – his everything.

Oh, you fell head over heels for him.

You tried to ignore, then push down this feeling – but as soon as you tried to avoid him, you were flooded with concerned messages and attacked by his grumpy roommate, Kid, who kept raiding your apartment to bring you pasta (and you had to admit it, you were wondering all the time how on Earth Killer could keep up with this loud creature). The relieved look Killer gave you when you eventually showed up again made you feel almost guilty for putting up such a childish game. And wow, you really did miss this man and the unique atmosphere of his little cozy shop. You were ready to face your feelings just to be able to inhale its smell and taste the delicious food which was offered here. And to stare forever at this breathtaking man. It didn’t matter, if you were scared of him realizing what was going on and giving you air – you already couldn’t live without seeing Killer.

That one particular day you came to the bakery dead tired, after extra hours, and so frustrated you thought you may explode anytime. You came in and dropped on your usual place with a long sigh. Killer, without a word spoken, put your favorite panini in front of you. As you ignored it, doing your best to not fall apart, he sat in front of you and gently closed your hands in his, rubbing the backs with his thumbs.

“What’s wrong?” You could see a concern and tension and he frowned.

“Nothing, it’s just-” Your voice was shaking, as you struggled to express yourself and not break at the same time. “Exhaustion, stress, bad weather – everything happening at once.”

And after another moment of silence, as you both didn’t move at all, you finally bursted, “Can you hug me?”

You were sure you crossed the line as he let your hands go – but then you felt his strong arms surrounding you and pulling you closer as he bended down over you. It was a bit awkward – not only for you, you could feel the tension building in his body – but it somehow made you relax. You sighed, letting out all the negative pressure, and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened when you touched his back, but didn’t let you go. You were so glad for that you could cry.

“Thanks.” You finally broke the hug and moved away from him. To your shock, he was the one really touched – as soon as you let him go, he had no idea what to do with his hands and couldn’t look straight into your eyes. How adorable for such a big man.

He finally pulled himself together and cleared his throat, “Do you feel any better?”

You smiled to him and finally reached for your panini, “Only thanks to you.”

He nodded and got back to work, letting you do what you enjoyed the most – observing him doing his chores. As he tied his long, fluffy hair, you could still a glimpse of his reddened ears and nape. Considering how rather expressionless he was, seeing Killer flustered like this made you not only smile but wonder, “ _Maybe the situation is not as hopeless as I thought?_ ”

But before you could say anything, Killer, without even turning to you nor stopping his work, spoke out of turn, “I’d not mind doing it once again.”

“Hugging you, I mean”, he added after a moment of silence, as you stared at his back in disbelief. “If you… don’t mind it, of course.”

“Maybe a cup of coffee first,” you teased… Just to witness him immediately come up to the coffee machine and brew you your favorite one. As he finally turned to you, with a cup in hand, you could see a bright smile in his eyes.

“I’ll ask you out properly for another one,” he promised.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, I'll really appreciate, if you leave a kudo and/or a comment (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡
> 
> This was written for a request on my writing tumblr some-piece. I encourage you to visit it, since I'm far more active there. And from time to time I am open for requests ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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